Sam

Rick wasn't present for the final day. He asked Sam to stay away and now he was making sure of he did. Sam was angry. Angry at himself, at Rick, at this fucking werewolf pack, he was just angry. The anger showed in his performance, he poured all his anger into his sets. He didn't make one mistake he was making during his practice.

Zia clapped, jumping up and down with excitement. "You did great, Sam."

"Yeah, whatever." he grunted, feeling shitty. His wolf had been giving him a hard, it needed his mate, a mate who refused to even see his face.

"Sam," Zia called his name, probably for the thousandth time.

"What?" he snapped and immediately felt bad for it. She didn't deserved to take the blunt of his frustration.

"I am sorry." he muttered.

"It's okay," Zia placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. "You came first. You have the highest score."

Sam stood up from his sitting position, astonished. "I did?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes." a smile spread on Zia's lips.

"Do you think Jordan would take me into Pack security?" Sam asked, hopefully.

Zia's face dropped and she looked away.

"Is it because I am gay?" Sam didn't want to be the kid who cried over thing but he had worked really hard to get accepted to the pack again. He couldn't let his sexuality come in way of his life.

"It's not that," Zia's huffed. "Come with me." she took his arms and dragged him through the doors to Rick's office which was empty, there was no trace of Rick in it.

"They are jealous of you, Sam. Especially Carl. They are planning to group up and protest against keeping you in the pack. Jordan being orderly Alpha he is, wants to appease the majority but you don't back up, you understand? You demand your rights until you get it." Zia took his shoulder with both hands and shook him. "You don't give up, Sam. You understand?"

Sam nodded, not knowing what else to say. "W...what should I do?"

His childhood was flashing before his eyes. The whole pack grouping against him to throw him out of the pack. As fifteen year boy he was helpless, scared. he had no plan, for days he barely survived. It was happening all over again but this time it hurt even more.

"You stand before them and tell them, you are not going anywhere. You are part of this pack and you will not be bullied into leaving." Zia said.

Sam nodded, even through he didn't believe he could do it. He went home that day with certificate of excellence. He could use the certificate in real world as a sports degree in school. But all he wanted was to burn the thing, forget all his training and go back to the way things were before, before when he hadn't met Rick, when he wasn't missing him every second of the day.

He tried to sleep but he couldn't. He took a shower, a bloody cold one to remove the insisting itch of changing into his wolf and running to Rick. It didn't help. He cock was a different story altogether. It was almost as if it was punishing him for being touched my his mate. Sam gripped his cock and squeezed it, groaning into the pillow. He didn't want to jerk himself, it did no good, it also made him want Rick more. It made him miss him more.

With every second of the clock hand, the intensity was increasing to the point that it was downright painful. He contemplated calling Rick but he had promised Rick he wouldn't. He endured the pain on his cock, on his skin, on every nerve ending. Fuck, he needed a doctor.

He managed to get on his bike and cycled to the nearest clinic, the only one in the town for werewolves. He fell down right outside the emergency door. Someone picked him up, he groaned at the burning sensation of some stranger's touch on his skin.

Doctors were talking, people moving around.

"How much is his temperature?" someone asked.

"103, sir."

"Attach an IV to him."

Someone held his arm but he jerked it away. "Don't...don't touch me." he managed to say. His skin hurt.

"You will die, you stupid boy," this time a manly hand took his arm and pricked needle on his vein. They were undressing him.

"Stop!" he struggled but was too tired to move his body. "I don't want it. It burns."

"What burns?" the male doctor asked.

"Your hands. Everyone's hands."

They stopped. Someone covered him up with a soft blanket and they left him in the room. The saline traveled through his veins putting him to deep sleep.